My Menopausal Musings

It’s not just Hollywood. It’s big business. It’s small business. It’s walking down the street. It’s all over America. It’s the President of the United States. I’m a woman of a ‘certain age’ so I remember when sexual harassment and discrimination were not only legal, but expected. Decades ago the laws changed allowing for women to make a legal stand when they were victimized, but they didn’t. Did the abuse stop? No. The bad boys lawyered up and new ways were found to keep women in their place. I was once an actress and singer and I can attest to the fact that the casting couch was a very real thing. I also worked in the business world for most of my life and can tell you that the abuse was just as unbridled there. I am sure that most women have experienced some form of harassment or discrimination, we just don’t know exactly what to do about it. We whisper in hallways, hinting at wrongdoings and guiding those women coming up after us. Some men stand silent and some join in....

The cyber dating world can be a funny place. This afternoon I received a playful (and a little bit forward) e-mail from a prospective date. When I opened his profile I knew in a second that it was someone I met 3 years ago. Our first date was not good, but I decided to respond. These things can take time. To my chagrin, he had absolutely no memory of having met. Good, bad or indifferent, I remember the most ridiculous details of life's smallest moments. I goaded him on. We exchanged a few e-mails and I supplied him with details of our meeting. Finally, the light bulb when off. He remembered! How could this quirky little man have forgotten who I was? What he remembered had nothing to do with my memory of our one and only date. He took the opportunity of my response to tell me how grand he had been and how awful I was. I have no idea how long it took him to compose his missive, but wonder why he bothered to expend the energy. I suppose I could have let sleeping dogs lie, but...

Handguns. Semi-automatic weapons. Automatic weapons. Street sweepers. A mentally ill young man was able to buy a terrible weapon of mass destruction and used it to destroy several lives this weekend. I struggle to make sense of the recent tragic shooting in Arizona as I hear the words of self-important politicians, political pundits and shock jocks ricocheting through the airwaves like so many bullets, each one believing they can repel those missile-like words like Superman. There is no sense to be made of it. There is no Superman. It is true that there will never be a gun in my house. I made that decision 37 years ago and stand by it. You can have a gun in your house, but you are not welcome to bring it to mine. I believe with all my heart that guns have no place at a grocery store parking lot, and challenge anyone to explain why I might be wrong. I have no answers, and only one question: What is the argument for owning a weapon designed to kill man?

There will always be tragedy and it will always be our job to try and make things better. Sometimes it’s difficult to know just what to do or say. In recent weeks the tragic deaths of young teens have been on the news and the issue of tolerance is back on the table for discussion. It seems we have lowered the bar. Both sides of the aisle are following the anger of the media and our politicians. We are too quick to judge. Today my friend Arthur Wooten posted the most extraordinary video on Facebook. The words of wisdom from a young City Councilman from Fort Worth, Texas overwhelmed me and left me in a flood of tears. I have no words, no review, simply a request that you watch and hear every word of wisdom this gentleman from South Texas has to say. Councilman Joel Burns @joelburns joel.burns@fortworthgov.org

I was excited to see The Irishman and his daughter this weekend. To my surprise, he came over alone on Friday evening and called it quits. Despite my own fears and doubts, I confess I didn’t see it coming. “I just can’t,” he said. As it turns out, The Irishman’s steamer trunk is filled with rocks and is sinking fast. He is too overwhelmed to be in a relationship at the moment, so he wants to be my friend. What is our ‘relationship’? I was waiting to talk about it, to give it a name we both felt comfortable with; he had already named it, become overwhelmed and needed to rename it. I didn’t know it, but I had been dubbed ‘girlfriend’. His friends knew. He told his sister. He had even told his mother! No wonder his mother was eager to meet me during her short visit from Ireland last week. The Irishman brought his sister and mother over for tea. I made sure the house was sparkling and baked a picture-perfect apple pie. I loved meeting them and had a fabulous time. Before ...

I had a great first date with The Irishman and things seem to be going pretty well. He’s fun, kind, helpful, hardworking, sexy, and he’s a single dad with more baggage than I could dream of having. In spite of his very heavy steamer trunk, I decided to climb aboard his ship and test the waters. Before I knew what was happening, I fell madly in love with his little girl. The first time her big blue eyes looked up at me as she hugged me and said, “I love you,” I was a goner. Of course, she is too young to understand that Daddy is dating. Frankly, I don’t think she should know. She still dreams of her parents’ reconciliation and The Parent Trap is her favorite movie. Of course that doesn’t stop me from fantasizing about him grabbing me in his strong arms, telling me he can’t live without me and whisking me away to his precious Emerald Isle. I have asked myself over and over again whether I would have continued to see The Irishman if I hadn’t fallen head over heels with his daugh...

I am a news junkie. Despite my 'lefty' leanings, I try to hear all sides, whether I like them or not. I find myself watching hours of coverage trying to distill the real news of the day. CNN, Fox, MSNBC, ABC, NBC, CBS... The list goes on and on. Not so long ago, network anchors were a trusted and respected source for news. That no longer seems to be the case, and with today’s news the line between the truth and the almighty dollar seems to have completely vanished. This summer Rupert Murdoch’s News Corporation donated a million dollars to the Republican Governors Association. Randi Rittenberg, a well-respected analyst and reporter, published the following report today on the impact of corporate donations to political parties. Now this is an example of fair and balanced reporting. You can bet your life on it. Rupert Murdoch, who has never been shy about making his political views known, has voted with his sizable checkbook. Murdoch's News Corp. has made a $1 million...

My first date with The Irishman was a quick after work drink with a time limit. I’ve had a lot of practice dating and realize that there is absolutely no such thing as cyber chemistry. We had exchanged a couple of e-mails and chatted on the phone but it was time to see if there was really anything there. We agreed to meet for a drink and both had someplace else to go when our hour was up. I of course arrived first and ordered my favorite smart cocktail, a scotch and water. He arrived with a big smile on his face, sat down next to me and then ordered a beer. I was surprised how easily we chatted. We covered everything from politics and religion to children and love. As he teased me about my liberal leanings a big grin appeared, letting me know he was pulling my leg, and he leaned over to kiss me. Just a lovely little kiss that made me keenly aware that I’d like to have a few more of them. Suddenly it was time to go. The Irishman paid for our drinks and then we walked for a coupl...

Once again, I’ve got my eye on the prize. I am focused. My mother would say that I’m ‘on the prowl.’ I say that I am looking for the last great love of my life. I have begun to date again. About a month ago the Wino, a wine importer, asked me to join him for a drink. I agreed to meet him and gave this date a quick twenty minutes – just long enough to sip a glass of wine and decide whether or not I wanted to meet again for a full-length date. The bar he selected was dark but homey. We had just enough time for him to tell me how wonderful he was and to regale me with his vast knowledge of wine. I was a bit concerned that I didn’t get a chance to really get a good look at him in the low light and then realized that the light was probably more than flattering for me. There certainly wasn’t a spark, but as I ran out the door I agreed to meet him again for another date. The Wino diligently called and e-mailed for 3 weeks until I agreed to meet him at a museum. I had been on my feet a...

I love that you guys follow my blog and my dating exploits. I especially love those of you that have bought my book, I Thought I Grew Up . Something you may not know about me is that, while I'm waiting for Hollywood to call and beg me to turn my book into a movie, I sell real estate. Here's a little bit about me ;-)

Last year, after a very long absence, the Real Scientist was back in touch. Spurred on by the release of my book and hearing me on the radio, he called and asked me out to lunch. I hadn’t heard from him in ages, but was delighted. We met at a bistro in Hell’s Kitchen and had a lovely time. Neither of us was at a loss for words. I confessed that he had a chapter in my book, and happily the conversation continued rather than coming to an abrupt end. Our date was followed by several lengthy phone conversations. We made plans to meet again and he sent me a charming birthday e-card. I was beginning to believe that there was real chemistry with the Real Scientist. During our date he had alluded to health issues, and in one phone conversation he discussed his surgery although he never disclosed what the issue really was. We continued to make plans and then suddenly he disappeared. There were no more calls. There were no more e-mails. Typically responsive, the Real Scientist seeme...

Last night, as part of my pre-Oscar movie-going frenzy I went to see “Up In The Air.” I remain haunted by Ryan Bingham and the look on his face when his lover tells him he is a parenthesis. In the beginning of the film Ryan and Alex seem to be cut from the same fabric – embracing aloneness; looking for entertainment; going back to their corners. Then something happens and Ryan’s heart opens up to possibilities beyond his own private universe. He begins to fall in love. Even more, he decides to share the news with the woman he loves only to discover that she was more like him that he was. Ryan: I thought I was part of your life. Alex: I thought we signed up for the same thing… I thought our relationship was perfectly clear. You are an escape. You’re a break from our normal lives. You’re a parenthesis. Ryan: I’m a parenthesis? I’ve been on both sides of that conversation. In years gone by I have been like Ryan and Alex – cool, falsely compassionate, struggling to mitigate my own ...

I often find myself sitting on the subway holding my book, not really reading, but watching what everyone is up to around me. Today I hoped no one was watching me. I left my office around four-thirty scurrying like a rat to get to my five o’clock appointment. I was busy today, but not so busy I couldn’t have left a few minutes earlier. There was no reason for me to be flying down the street grousing at the people who weren’t walking quite as fast as I was on my way to the subway. I ran down the stairs and slid my MetroCard through the turnstile just as the uptown 1 Train pulled into the station. The train was crowded, but I managed to get a seat. I should have been embarrassed as I rolled my eyes because the woman next to me took up a little more space than the plastic molded seats allowed. At the 96th Street station a tired-looking woman entered my subway car. She was probably ten years younger than I and looked five years older. Her expression was flat; the look of a woman ...

Who says kids don't have a thing or two to say? My best friend’s daughter is an extraordinary 11 year-old. I am proud to call Katya my friend as well. This afternoon she sent this video that has been making the rounds and I wanted to share it with you. In order to raise breast cancer awareness, Providence St. Vincent Medical Center in Portland, Oregon produced the Pink Glove Dance for Breast Cancer Awareness. Their hope was that they could get 1,000,000 hits to help raise money. In just one month they’re nearly at the 5.5 million mark. It’s fun and inspiring. Take a moment and let it make you smile ;-) xxx

For the past few years I have been reading articles and interviewing woman about menopause symptoms and remedies. We've talk about trying everything from tincture of sage to hormone replacement therapy. Today the NY Times published " Menopause, as Brought to You by Big Pharma ," by Natasha Singer and Duff Wilson. It's certainly an eye-opener. Lawsuits and internal documents show how Pfizer and its predecessors promoted the idea of taking hormone drugs. If you or someone you love is careening into menopause, have them talk to family, friends and doctors. Be informed. For me, the cure for my hot flashes was sex. I highly recommend it ;-)

Support comes from the most surprising places. A lover’s look. The sound of a friend’s hello on the other end of the phone. Giggles from a child. The glorious sound of voices around a holiday table. Music. Art. A hug. A kiss. It has been a trying year. It has also been an exciting year. In May my first book, I Thought I Grew Up , was published and I have heard from people in 3 continents who have purchased my memoir. This weekend I have meetings out of town about new possibilities. I am hopeful. Send me a hug, a kiss, a giggle…. I am nervous but am sure that the Universe is sending a new beginning to each and every aspect of my life. Stand by me and help me open up to the infinite possibilities of the Universe.

On Thursday, November 19th at 7.30p.m. I will be appearing at Words Bookstore in Maplewood, NJ. I will be reading from my memoir, I THOUGHT I GREW UP, an Award-Winning Finalist of the National Best Books 2009 Awards. If you're coming from NYC, it's 30 minutes from Penn Station on NJ Transit! Just take the train to Maplewood, NJ. Two blocks from the train station you'll find Words at 179 Maplewood Avenue. As easy as pie ;-) Come on down and pick up a copy for the fabulous person stuffing your bird next week ;-) I'll be reading from the book and signing copies. Spread the word and invite your friends! Words is an amazing bookstore with a big heart. Whether you can make it to the reading or not, you must stop by Words and support this great independent bookstore. I hope to see your shining faces there. Michelle xxx

OK… I admit that these kid quotes have been ‘borrowed’ ;-) A friend sent these sage words in an e-mail this evening. As I read it a flood of memories raced through my mind ranging from my own recent dating exploits to Art Linkletter’s Kids Say the Darndest Things. If you’re too young to remember Mr. Linkletter’s House Party, take a moment to watch this fabulous YouTube clip. You won’t regret giving up the seven minutes and thirteen seconds of your life. These kids are hysterical… How do you decide whom to marry? You got to find somebody who likes the same stuff. Like, if you like sports, she should like it that you like sports, and she should keep the chips and dip coming. -- Alan, age 10 No person really decides before they grow up who they're going to marry. God decides it all way before, and you get to find out later who you're stuck with.... -- Kristen, age 10 What is the right age to get married? Twenty-three is the best age because you know the person FOREVER by the...

How many chances do we get? Are there a finite number of times for a do-over or do we get as many chances as we make for ourselves? An endless cycle of failing, trying and succeeding constantly swirls around me. Each new turn surprises me even though there can be nothing more certain than this cycle of change. Fail; try; succeed. Fail; try; succeed. Fail; try; succeed. As I’ve gotten a bit older I’ve become more Zen about the cycles. The one thing I feel sure of is that each one is no better than the other. Each cycle offers its lesson. I’ve struggled these past few years to be more open – telling my story; exposing the mysteries of hot flashes and my tears; bearing my heart on the pages of my book. In spite of my efforts, I have not been completely honest with myself. I’ve been spinning out of control. No one knew, not even me, and so the spinning continued. Finally, realizing I was dizzy, I discovered that all I had to do was to reach out my hand and everyone that loves me g...

I'm not sure what's more surprising, that there is a World Menopause Day or that it's something I seem to be paying attention at this point in my life. In any event, what's really important is raising awareness and opening the dialogue about menopause and how it effects all of us. That's right, I said all of us -- pre- peri- or just plain old menopausal women AND the people who love them. So, here we go.... HOT Sales FLASH! Help boost sales of I THOUGHT I GREW UP on October 18th for World Menopause Day. Have you been waiting to get your copy or perhaps been thinking about sharing I THOUGHT I GREW UP with a friend? You've waited this long, so here's what I'd like for you to do to help me on my path to Oprah ;-). Let's try to direct our heat with a laser-like focus on the goal at hand. SALES!!! Buy it on Barnes & Noble Buy it on Amazon Of course you're always welcome to buy a book whenever you are moved to do so (God bless you), but I say l...